Won't die of deception
by RowenaR
Summary: It still hurts. Like hell. But then again… what did I expect? It’s been only a month since… everything. Dee, oneshot, somewhat of an AU, sequel to Stop and take a second


**Author: **Surprise, surprise :D**  
Summary: ** "It still hurts. Like hell. But then again… what did I expect? It's been only a month since… everything." - Dee, one-shot, somewhat of an AU, sequel to "Stop and take a second"  
**Category:** Romance... kinda.**  
Rating:** K+**  
Disclaimer: **Battlestar Galactica along with Kara, Lee and anyone else mentioned belong to Ronald D. Moore and everyone who's officially making money with them, as well as "Don't bother" belongs to Shakira and everyone who's oficially making money with it. Which I don't. Honestly.**  
A/N:** So here it is. Third and last part of the L/K/D one-shots I wrote. This one I found the hardest to write, because being a total L/K-shipper (well, reading the re-caps of "Unfinished Business" like... made my day :D), I had a real problem with the whole L/D-thing RDM pulled. So writing a disillusioned Dee and being a sympathetic author was a little hard. I hope I still managed well enough.

And don't forget:

Feedback will get you a cookie, flames will roast my marshmellows.

* * *

**Won't die of deception**

"_So don't bother.  
I won't die of deception.  
I promise you won't ever see me cry.  
Don't feel sorry."_

_Shakira, "Don't bother"_

* * *

It still hurts. Like hell. But then again… what did I expect? It's been only a month since… everything. A month since she was finally back in his life – in _our_ life – again. A month since he came into our quarters, to "talk". And then he moved out, leaving me behind in quarters that suddenly seemed so big, so empty. I never thought I could ever feel that lonely on a ship like the _Galactica_. And I still do. Even when everyone's so sympathetic, telling me he was a no-good jerk who never deserved anything from me and all that stuff. 

A laugh sounds through the ready room. Involuntarily I lift my head to look into the direction of that laugh even if I know full well whom it belongs to. Starbuck. Glorious Kara Thrace who heroically fought in the resistance on New Caprica, who had to endure Cylon captivity, who did everything for the people down on the planet. And who took away my husband after she chased off her own.

I see her sitting there, with Lee opposite to her, both of them laughing. My hand cramps around the chop sticks when I see him throwing back his head and hear his loud full laughter. I can't even remember the last time he laughed like that when he'd been with me. Her laughter again joins his, roaring, open, hearty. When was the last time I had had such fun with him? When she leans forward to animately tell some pilot story and I see this… _gleam_ in his eyes, I force myself to turn away from them.

Bits and pieces of "The Talk" come back to my mind. _"I know you think it's Kara's fault, but it isn't. Please try to understand this. It's my fault it came to this. If you want to be angry, be angry at _me_, not Kara."_, he'd said and gave me this kicked-puppy-look he perfected for whenever he wanted to push me into something. But I _wanted_ to be angry at Starbuck back then, and I _still_ want it. If I concentrate my anger on her, maybe I can ignore all the other things he said.

For example those things about having _"lived a lie for too long"_ or "_not wanting to hurt me" _or _"being so terribly sorry"_. If he was so terribly sorry for thinking it didn't work anymore and not wanting to hurt me, why was he leaving me then?

I realize I've been holding my chop sticks for quite some time now, and my hand starts to hurt from the strain, so I force myself to loosen the grip and start eating. Just… eating. One piece of food after another. Don't look at their table. Ignore all the sympathetic looks. All those "I _told_ you he was just using her to try and get over that Starbuck whore."-looks. All the whispers behind my back about how I turned him into a limp undisciplined wreck, back on the _Pegasus _and how I totally deserved what he did. Just ignore them, Dee. You know it's not true, and you know that you don't need any fake sympathy. You don't even need real sympathy. What you _need_ is giving Starbuck a taste of your own right hook.

And I really want to. I want to give her the same beating she must have given him when he came back with that shiner. And do to her whatever she did to him to give him that laceration over his right eye. It's her fault, no doubt. _Every_ time he's hurt it's her fault. Just like back on _Cloud Nine_, when she charged into that bar and shot him. What he can possibly see in her, I just don't get. She's not even good-looking. Okay, so she's a blonde. Men like blondes. But really… what more is there to her? She's loud, she's rude, she's cocky. Without those tits she could be a man.

My lips are pressed to a thin line, because the reasonable part of my mind just told me I was thinking nonsense. There'd been a time when I liked big mouth Kara Thrace for what she was. Maybe I found her a little forward, a little too hot-headed sometimes, but yes, I liked her. Until… until I began to see Lee as more than just a co-worker or a comrade. When I started to have hopes he might one day see me not only as some soldier, but as a woman as well. And when I realized that she could have had him already for a long time but never made a move.

I force myself to continue eating even when every piece of food feels like a piece of barbed wire in my throat. It's my own fault, I guess. I knew I'd meet them together somewhere. It was only a question of time. And out of some strange reason I had to challenge time and deliberately gone to the ready room when I knew that they'd most probably be there as well. Mostly to show them both that I was still there, that I'd live through all of it, with my head high, I suppose. Of course I didn't want to show up as the impersonation of Starbuck's bad conscience or to remind Lee he couldn't run from me forever or anything. Because, well, he _didn't_ run. He'd come by, asked how I was, told me he was sorry, told me it had been for the good of both of us he'd done it… Until I told him to frak off once and forever.

I look at the bowl of food in front of me and after a few seconds decide to put the chop sticks away. No use pretending I'm hungry when I'm just not, and no use pretending I hadn't felt what he'd described as well. Somehow, over the last few months… I'd felt a change. Like he was slowly awaking from some trance… or maybe drifting away from me.

It had started when I'd started bugging him about kids. He'd always wriggled his way out of any conversation turning into that direction, and after a while he didn't even take the trouble of answering anything regarding children. He just ignored it. Took me a while to realize that it wasn't about not wanting kids in general but about not wanting to have kids with _me_. Just never had the guts to really confront him about that. No, instead I started getting bitchy. Which in turn made me feel like a bad wife, which made me even more bitchy…

I run a hand over my face. No, we hadn't had the best of marriages, and not even just recently but for at least a few months now. Still… we could have tried. That Starbuck came back and he obviously somehow felt attracted to her again… it should have been a signal to get up and try and mend the things that had been broken. I don't even resent him for not feeling comfortable with me anymore, I mostly resent him for not wanting to try again.

Helo and Athena walk by my table, and involuntarily, I look into the direction they're headed. Which leads me straight to _their_ table again, and my breath catches in my throat. They're still speaking animatedly with each other, but now they're both leaning towards each other over the table, both with a _gleam_ in their eyes. But what really gets at me is his hand that covers hers, almost absentmindedly, but firmly in place. Then he starts to stroke her hand with his thump, and she colors a little. In the moment Helo and Athena sit down at _their_ table he takes his hand off, and they start another casual conversation. I'm ready to run to the next toilet and throw up.

"Hey, that seat taken?" I snap around. Oh. Felix Gaeta. Another pariah. But I still like him. I try to ignore my nausea and try a smile.

"No. What makes you think so?", I say and gesture towards the seat opposite me. Felix sets down his tray and smiles as well.

"Well, you didn't look like you particularly wanted any company." I already have an automatic response ready, but then I pause. There was something missing. Oh, yeah, the sympathetic undertone and the "Aw, the poor thing who was left by her hunk of a husband."-look most people who've been talking to me recently had in their voice and eyes. Instead it was just a casual remark, nothing important.

I smile a little smile, this time even genuine. "Well, you know what they say: Looks can be deceiving." I clear my throat. "So… how are you?" Feels actually good to be the one asking that question.

He shrugs. "You know how it is, with all that stuff…" And then he starts going on about the kind of work he's now doing, and how people slowly start talking to him again and after a while… after a while hearing Starbuck or Apollo laugh doesn't bother me anything at all.


End file.
